No but really, we're grownups
by MustacheOn
Summary: Small, silly one-shots meant to be light-hearted and overall, silly. Ch.3 Gwaine and Lancelot realize why they shouldn't eavesdrop on Arthur and Merlin's conversation behind a closed door.
1. The only (questionable) exception

Well yes, there are about hundredths of drabbles out there, and yes I would like to contribute to them until a plot bunny attacks and I can actually write a plotty fic. Ah, if only... Anyway, first Merlin fic ever! So I hope I'm not that awful, huh.

**Warning:** Merlin being a careless idiot (does that really count as a warning?), also slightly OOC Uther.

**Summary:** Merlin saves Arthur once more with his magic; Uther just hits him for good measure.

By the way, English is not my first language, so if you see any spelling/grammar mistake please feel free to comment on it (:

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**The only (questionable) exception**

Uther pulled out his sword from the limp bandits' body with a skill forged from years and years of fights and training, and turned to protect one of his injured knights. It was a good thing that the bandits had been dim-witted enough to camp near the doors of Camelot, or Uther might have not been there in time.

That same morning the patrolling squad informed him that the bandits that had been causing misfortune to travelers and his townspeople for the last couple of weeks had finally been spotted near Camelot. Arthur lost no time on informing his knights that they were to leave within the hour to where the bandits were last seen. Uther nodded approvingly, knowing that his son would complete this task in no time and hopefully, with no causalities.

But an hour after Arthur left, one of his knights returned to the castle looking disheveled and slightly injured. Uther's body tensed with worry once the knight informed him that there were more bandits than anticipated, and that they were outnumbered 3 to 1. In no time, the king and some of his knights were out to help Arthur and the rest.

Things were going well on Arthur's side, the knights of Camelot were able to stand their ground and had casted their own set of injuries to the bandits, so when Uther and his knights arrived everything started to run smoothly.

The bandits' moves grew frantic once they realized they were being overpowered, and Uther would never admit that he was having quite a good time—because really, being inside the castle without having anything more exciting than the occasional flu was rather boring. He finished with the last bandit of his side and helped his injured knight up. A small smile made its way to his features once he realized that most of the bandits were running away, and hopefully would think twice before stepping near his lands once more.

Suddenly, his blood grew cold.

Arthur was fighting—winning, actually—against a rather large bandit, unaware of his surroundings, when out of nowhere a scrawny looking man crept his way behind Arthur, his sword ready to kill.

"Arthur!" gasped Uther. He was too far away; he would never be able to stop that man before he attacked. He stared in horror as the man lifted his sword, but suddenly realized that Arthur's manservant was near them, and that he had realized that Arthur was in trouble, too. Uther watched Merlin's eyes; he saw them turn a fiery gold—just as every other time he had witnessed the boy's golden eyes whenever he casted a spell to save his son's life, and sighed in relief when the scrawny bandit was pushed backwards by an invisible force and stamped viciously against the nearest tree, loosing consciousness.

Arthur managed to overpower his opponent without noticing the danger his manservant had just spared him from (_But really, how come he never notice?_ Uther thought), and the king brought a hand to his hair in relief. He watched as Arthur walked over to his manservant and gave him a head nuggie in such a close fashion not deemed for both their status that had he not been oh so tired with relief, he would have frowned upon.

Yet, he sighed.

Magic was evil; it corrupted people's hearts and brought chaos among the peaceful ones. But that boy, that clumsy, good-for-nothing manservant had saved his son's life more times that he could remember. Ever since the first time he saw him use magic to save Arthur's life, when he made Merlin his son's manservant, there was this little voice in the back of his head that told him not to kill the boy. Maybe he was just so simple minded that he had managed to be the exception to the rule. He would keep quiet; keeping the boy's secret with him for as long as Merlin continued to protect Arthur from all evil, even if that meant breaking one of his own laws.

He saw the last of the bandits flee from the battlefield, and suddenly Arthur and Merlin were walking towards him, muttering and stifling small laughs in the way. "Father," said Arthur, once again composed, "I'm glad you managed to arrive in time to help us."

"But of course, you were badly misinformed on the number of bandits around the zone, I'm just glad everything turned out for the best."

Arthur smiled before bowing slightly to his father, "Merlin," he said, "help me with the injured ones so we can take them back to Gaius."

"Of course," said Merlin. He walked with Arthur and kneeled before an injured knight that was just a couple of steps behind Uther to see for any broken limbs.

"My Lord," Uther turned around to greet the knight he had saved earlier; he seemed okay, save for a couple of bruises. "Just now, Prince Arthur was about to be attacked from the back, was he not?"

Uther nodded slowly, he didn't like were this was going.

The knight frowned, his eyes turning to the black haired boy bickering with the Prince behind them. "Just before the bandit was _thrown_ to that tree, his servant's eyes turned gold, like a sorcerer's," he gulped before addressing the king once more in hushed whispers. "He was using _magic._"

"Nonsense," Uther scoffed.

"But, my Lord—"

"It was just the light, you must've been mistaken."

"No, but—"

"Aren't you supposed to be helping with the injured ones?"

The knight stiffened at the venom-like tone from Uther's words. He nodded hastily, mumbling apologies under his breath before dashing over to his injured comrades.

Uther groaned in exasperation, he could feel a headache coming in already.

He walked over to an oblivious Merlin who was currently unpacking some medical supplies from a horse. He glared at the back of his head, and in three long, swift paces he managed to stand right behind him. So he lifted his right hand and slapped the back of Merlin's head mercilessly.

"Ouch! What the hell is—oh," Merlin stared with a dumbfounded expression at the angry king before him, rubbing absentmindedly the sore spot on his head. "Wait... what?"

"You careless imbecile," Uther groaned. He slapped Merlin across the head once more for good measure—he was kinder this time, he wouldn't like the boy to lose any more neurons—and walked back towards his horse, leaving a confused warlock behind.

Honestly, to have the king worrying about a careless manservant... as soon as they were back in Camelot that boy was going to the stocks.

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Good!Uther! Not that _that _would ever happen, but I like that idea. Hah, one can dream. Besides, I really can't see Uther as a bad guy ever since I saw the bloopers of Merlin, so...

**Also, I would like to update this story every Sunday (unless I really can't what with school and stuff)!** See how I bolded that, it makes it look important and stuff!

Anyway, remember to click that pretty review button and tell me what you think about the story! Or about whatever you want, really, (:

-MustacheOn


	2. Incendio

I swear I have _no idea _what possessed me into writing this, but oh well.

**Warning:** CourtSorcerer!Merlin, is that even a warning?

**Summary:** It's not as if Arthur was obsessed with a certain book, and he definitely didn't try to open a door with 'Alohomora'.

Yeah, should've written this in the previous chapter, so let's make this count for this and any future reference! I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter, figures.

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**Incendio**

Arthur buried his face in his pillow and groaned, loudly. With a resigned sigh, and after mustering all that was left of his will, he lifted his head just a bit and stared at the unlit candle placed on top of his bedside table with a permanent scowl.

This was all Merlin's fault.

It had been two weeks since his idiotic Court Sorcerer magicked himself into the future, and a week since he finally, _finally _worked a way in that stupid little brain of his to come back to Camelot.

Oh, but he hadn't come with his hands empty, obviously.

He brought a strange little thingy that the people of the future called a 'pen'—some sort of substitute for his quill, Merlin had said—and to be honest, it was really amazing. Not that Arthur would ever admit that to Merlin, he knew the bastard just got him that so he wouldn't be that mad for leaving him two whole weeks.

And he had strange things for everyone, but what caught Arthur's attention the most was the bag full of _books_. Apparently, Merlin didn't actually steal those books as Arthur had first thought (_"I _swear _Arthur, I just left my neckerchief on the ground and did some silly little magic tricks and people would just_ _throw money at it! Isn't it _weird_?_) Now, he knew that Merlin likes to read, but to ignore Arthur's kingly duties as well as his Court Sorcerer's just for a stupid book was too much. And no matter what Gwaine said, he was definitely not jealous of a book damn it!

So three days after Merlin's return to Camelot, Arthur spotted Merlin ignoring all his duties as any good useless person would, sitting peacefully on the gardens of Camelot with his nose buried on a different book (was it the second one already?).

There was no way he would get a better chance than now.

With a stealth forged with years and years of battles, Arthur crept into Merlin's chambers, grabbed the book Merlin was reading not even two days ago, and dashed to his room with a speed that would put any horse rider to shame. He locked the door after him before sitting on the chair besides the fireplace and examined the book in his hands. _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_, it read, and Arthur couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips after reading that title—what kind of book was named _Harry Potter_, anyway?

.

.

Three days later, Arthur decided that _Harry Potter_ was absolutely the best book he'd ever read in his life. Ever. But he needed more, he needed to know what happened with every character, and the bad guy, and, well, pretty much everything.

It was only obvious for Arthur to send Merlin to muck out the stables and polish his armor and sharpen his swords (_"Why should I do that?" "Oh shut up, you can do it with a flick of your hand, besides you're still my manservant." "Prat."_); all in all, he had about 10 minutes before Merlin got back to replace the first book with the second one.

Oh, and _The Chamber of Secrets_ was really good.

Nonetheless, it was halfway through the book when Arthur realized that he hadn't tried _any _of the spells in Harry Potter; which meant that maybe even _he _could do some magic! So after yelling _Alohomora_ at a dungeon lock for the past fifteen minutes—and either his guards had a very bad hearing problem, or they had been kind enough to not go and see just what the hell was going on—Arthur came to the conclusion that this was obviously not working because he didn't have a wand.

Admittedly, Merlin didn't need one to cast his spells, but apparently neither did Dumbledore.

He wasn't sure how long he had spent looking for the perfect branch in the forest of Camelot, but it had proved to be useless once he had tried every single spell he could remember—even speaking parseltongue to a passing snake, and nothing had worked.

Angry and frustrated, he stomped his way to his castle and inside his chambers to sulk. He stared at the unlit candle of his bedside table and, with a determined look, cleared his throat. "_Incendio_," he said, and waited.

Nothing, absolutely nothing happened. And he refused to believe he was a—a_ muggle_.

Arthur groaned, "Oh for the love of—_INCENDIO_!"

Oh, this was frustrating. He let his head drop to his pillow and groaned; maybe he was just like the Drusley's, plain and muggle and, even if he hated to admit it, he was eating a lot lately. The sound of someone—Merlin, no doubt—barging into his room interrupted his gloomy train of thought.

"Arthur?" said Merlin, closing the door behind him and entering the dark room illuminated only by the rapidly fading sun. "Are you all right? The guards told me they saw you stomping all the way here."

"I don't stomp," mumbled Arthur, his face buried still on his pillow.

Merlin scoffed, "Yeah, right, and I suppose you don't sulk either, my Lord?"

"Oh for Merlin's beard, can you just go already and leave me alone?"

Seconds that felt like minutes passed by between those two: Merlin staring questioningly at Arthur, and Arthur sitting on his bed, arms crossed and glaring at Merlin. Then it clicked. "For my be—have you been reading my books, Arthur?"

Arthur glanced to the side stubbornly. "No," he said, and he could practically _feel _the grin on Merlin's face.

"Yes you did," said Merlin, walking over to Arthur's bed and sitting right beside him. "Isn't it brilliant?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Arthur's lips, "Yeah well," he said, "how come they keep mentioning your name, huh, _Mer_lin? That Ron character is very fond of it, even mentioning your pants."

"H-how should I know!" Merlin stuttered, ignoring the pleased smirk that made its way to Arthur's face when he saw him blush. Bastard. "And what were _you_ doing on the forest, huh? Don't think I didn't see you being all mysterious and sneaking to the woods."

Now it was Arthur's turn to blush. Merlin smiled triumphantly.

"Arthur," he started, forcing his face into an emotionless mask, "have you tried any Harry Potter spell?"

Now Merlin really wished he had brought with him one of those small things that plastered people's expressions on a piece of paper. A 'camuhra', was it?

Blush placed stubbornly on his cheeks, Arthur directed a glare at his idiotic Court Sorcerer. "And what if I have?" he asked, directing a look at Merlin that promised pain and a week mucking out the stables without magic if he as much as breathed a word of this.

"Nothing," said Merlin, barely able to contain his mirth anymore, "nothing at all sire."

Merlin pulled Arthur up from his bed and helped him out of his clothes, a badly concealed grin all the way through. "It's getting late," he said once Arthur had disappeared behind the changing screen, "I'll bring you something to eat so you can turn in for the night early, remember you have a morning meeting with the council."

"Yeah, whatever," Arthur muttered, making his way back to his bed and glaring at the still unlit candle on his bedside table. Suddenly, an idea struck his mind—and really, how had he not thought of this before? "Hang on, Merlin?"

Merlin turned around, and he just needed a look at Arthur staring at the unlit candle to know what was going on in his stupid, kingly mind. "Arthur, are you—"

"_Mer_lin."

Merlin sighed, "Fine."

Arthur smirked; he stood up from his bed and positioned himself before his bedside table, and with a hand stretched towards the candle he said with a clear, loud voice, "_Incendio._"

Merlin's eyes turned gold, and the candle before Arthur burned with a bright light. Arthur turned around, hands on his hips as he directed a smug smile at Merlin; the candle shining proudly behind him.

"Oh, wipe that smug smirk of your face, will you?" said Merlin, making his way to the door to bring Arthur's dinner already.

"That's no way of speaking to your king, Merlin," said Arthur.

"Shut up you prat."

If any other servant heard Merlin speaking to him like that they would certainly have something close to a heart attack. But he could hear the smile on Merlin's words, no need to worry.

Besides, he'd just lit a candle with a Harry Potter spell.

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Chapter two done! Thanks to all that liked and fav'ed and reviewed and you're just turning me into a puddle of goo, you guys! I hope you liked this chapter as well! See you next Sunday, and remember to click on that review button!


	3. Eavesdropping is a bad, bad thing

Chapter 3 up! Thank you to all of you that liked and fav'd and reviewed, you guys really make me so happy (:

**Warning:** Probably seen it hundredths of times, but I wanted to do one of these too! So yeah, dirty minded knights in this chapter... and Uther, kind of. This is actually one of the reasons this is rated T.

**Summary:** Gwaine and Lancelot realize why they shouldn't eavesdrop on Arthur and Merlin's conversation behind a closed door. DirtyMinded!Gwaine&Lancelot

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**Eavesdropping is a bad, bad thing**

Gwaine was bored. Bored, bored, _bloody bored_. Ever since they had driven Morgana and Morgause out of Camelot, things had been extremely and utterly peaceful around (of course he was glad about it, but _come on_! Not even bandits nearby, or a far away village raid, hell, what would he give for even a crazy cow going about in the lower town), what with the king still bed ridden with the depression of having her ward betraying him a slight gloom had perched itself within the walls of the castle. Arthur had been extremely broody lately too, except when Merlin was around—that boy always managed to bring up a smile on everyone he crossed paths with.

Which lead Gwaine back to his original problem.

He had searched for the boy up and down the castle with no avail: Merlin's chambers, the kitchen, outside grounds, hell, even the dungeons in case he'd done something stupid again. But Gwaine wouldn't give up, he would raid the whole damned castle until he found that little ball of energy and bully him into going to the tavern with him, where he would get Merlin completely and utterly drunk so they could do stupid things together until the owner threw them out and he could bully him next morning about whatever atrocity he dared do.

Seriously, he had made it a personal goal (New Year was still months away) to get Merlin drunk as much as possible. Now if only he could know his whereabouts...

Gwaine waltzed over to Arthur's chambers, winking and throwing compliments to the passing maids, with hopes that Arthur would know where Merlin was—he knew he should have gone there before, but he really didn't want to meet Arthur in case the Prince decided on having practice today just for the sake of it.

He reached Arthur's chambers in no time, sighed, muttered a quick prayer so that Arthur wouldn't even think of practice today, and raised his fist to knock on the door—

—But stopped abruptly.

"What the..." he pressed his ear to the door, holding his breath in an attempt to listen better. He could hear a lot of shuffling behind the door, and a few seconds later someone groaned. A smirk made its way to Gwaine's lips, was Arthur having some fun time by himself behind that door? He muffled a snigger with his hand before listening some more. More grunts and shuffling could be heard behind that door.

A sudden idea popped in Gwaine's mind; he would be sent to the stocks for a week at least, but this was _such_ a good opportunity to have a laugh himself! So, mind already set, he grabbed the doorknob ready to burst in and catch the Prince red handed (get it? Red handed?), but of course fate wouldn't have it that way.

"_Oh my God… Arthur, it's huge!"_

Gwaine froze. That wasn't Arthur's voice. At all.

But that could very well be anyone, right? There were a lot of people around the castle that sounded just like—

"_Of course it is _Mer_lin; _that _is what happens when you play with it."_

Well, there goes Gwaine's slight hope to deny that Merlin was inside Arthur's chamber and—hold on, huge? After playing with it? What the bloody hell! Oh, this was definitely Arthur's idea, he really doubted Merlin ever had sex before; hell, he even doubted the boy knew something besides the basics! He vaguely wondered what his punishment would be for trying to strangle his Prince...

"_Well in my defense I really didn't think things would turn out like—ah! Be gentle will you?"_

"_Sorry, well, if you just kept biting on you neckerchief you wouldn't be so noisy."_

"_Don't act as if you don't like to hear my voice you pr—h-hey! You did that on purpose!"_

Gwaine felt his body tense, he was hurting Merlin? So deflowering him wasn't enough for Arthur? That bastard! He would go inside and take Merlin away—maybe hit Arthur just a couple of times—and have a long, very detailed, maybe slightly graphic (Gaius must have some books about that kind of stuff, the better to traumatize Merlin and keep him from doing it again), talk about the birds and the bees with the boy and how he shouldn't go near any perverted prince, or anyone Gwaine didn't deem appropriate for his Merlin on that matter. Definitely, he would go in there... any minute now... He really didn't want to see what was going on behind that door...

"Come on Gwaine," he muttered to himself, "for Merlin, you can't let Arthur take advantage of his oblivious self."

"Gwaine?"

"Shi—Lancelot!" said a startled Gwaine, gripping the cloth over his heart while motioning for the confused knight to get closer. "Keep your voice down, they could hear you."

Lancelot's frown deepened, but he still walked over to Arthur's door nonetheless and crouched down next to a slightly flustered Gwaine, "They? What are you—"

"_Ah, Arthur wait, it hurts!"_

Lancelot's eyebrows rose, "Was that...?"

"_Hold on, I think I have some... aha! Here it is!"_

"_Oil?"_

"_Yeah, Gaius gave me some before going to that trip yesterday, in case I needed it after practice or something; I'll coat it with the oil to make it slippery."_

"Sl-Slippery?" whispered Lancelot; he gave a horrified look to a stern looking Gwaine. "Just what is going on in there? And what does he mean by 'coating it'!"

"I think Arthur is going to deflower Merlin," said Gwaine, and Lancelot could hear a murderous edge to his words, not that he could blame him.

"But I thought Merlin didn't know how to... you know..!"

Gwaine nodded, "I agree, I think Arthur is taking advantage of his obliviousness."

"_A-Arthur! Please stop, it hurts!"_

"_Just a bit more Merlin, I promise it'll stop hurting soon."_

A small blush made its way to Lancelot's face, Gwaine looked ready to kill. "He's hurting Merlin!" he said, suddenly, worry flashed through his eyes. "You don't think he's forcing him, do you?"

Lancelot gaped, but shook his head viciously before answering, "No! Arthur would never do that to Merlin!"

"Do what?"

Both knights turned their heads in horror. Of course it would be just their luck to have King Uther right behind them, looking at them skeptically as they hovered behind Arthur's chambers.

"M-My Lord!" stuttered Lancelot, "I didn't know you would feel well enough to go outside your chambers today!"

Uther frowned, "Yes well, I felt like taking a walk around the castle," he said, then glared at the knights and felt a bit of satisfaction as they flinched under his stare—he hadn't lost his touch yet. "Can you two tell me why are you eavesdropping on my son?

Gwaine opened his mouth in a feeble attempt to say something remotely credible and far, far away from the truth when another groan and—oh for the love of... was that a _moan_?—interrupted him.

"_Lift your leg, Merlin."_

"_Like that? Why?"_

"_Like that, perfect; so I can do this better... I'm going to pull out slowly, all right?"_

"_A-Ah! Arthur!"_

Uther lifted one eyebrow, and both Gwaine and Lancelot looked quite worried and flustered. "Really," said Uther, "can't they be more discrete? That manservant of his is quite vocal..."

The knights just stared with mouths wide open at the retreating figure of their king, mumbling under his breath how he should talk with Arthur about finding more private places to have sexual intercourse with that boy.

Gwaine and Lancelot fidgeted nervously on their spot; the groans and muffled words coming from inside Arthur's bedroom becoming harder and harder to ignore by the second. So the King just heard his son and his manservant doing completely inappropriate things to one another (and by one another, Gwaine meant Arthur tainting sweet, innocent Merlin), and resumed his walk down the castle as if nothing was out of the ordinary! It really made you wonder how long Uther had suspected about those two...

"Uh, this is... really awkward," said Lancelot, a shade of pink creeping slowly to his cheeks. "Maybe we should just leave Gwaine, let them have some privacy, you know?"

Gwaine shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He _did _want to leave, far, far away from here; but he couldn't just leave Merlin at the mercy of (the soon to be strangled) Arthur! Oh, but listening to—to whatever they were doing was just so very wrong! "Yeah, maybe you're right," he finally said.

"_Arthur, do it faster!"_

"_Faster? Are you sure?"_

Why, _why_ did they have to yell that kind of stuff just when they were about to leave! Seriously, maybe the maids from three floors down weren't able to hear them! They really wondered if the man who made this castle thought on making soundproofed rooms, for future references.

Gwaine's knuckles turned white from the force of his shaking fist.

"_Yes I'm—ah!"_

"_Merlin!"_

Lancelot's face turned an interesting shade of phosphorescent red, and Gwaine was sure his face was burning up as well. Arthur screamed; bloody screamed out Merlin's name. Oh God, he was soiling Merlin's innocence right before him! Kind of...

"Gwaine, we really, really should go now," said Lancelot. He took Gwaine by the elbow and tried to pull him down the corridor.

"_Almost there, Merlin! Just. One. More...hah!"_

"_Oh God, I'm bleeding again!" _

Lancelot could swear he heard something snap inside Gwaine's mind.

Gwaine pulled abruptly from Lancelot's grasp, and ignoring his protests, he opened Arthur's chamber doors with enough force to break it. "Get your hands off him you bastard!" said Gwaine, Lancelot peeking from behind in an attempt to give his friends the little privacy left that Gwaine tactlessly shattered. "How dare you take Merlin's inno—huh?"

Gwaine stared in confusion at the scene before him, trying to comprehend just what the _hell_ was really going on in there. Lancelot stepped forward and face-palmed, he wondered if maybe there was another kingdom far away from Camelot who needed some knights...

But they there were, Arthur and Merlin, sitting on the cold floor of the prince's chambers, right next to the fireplace and fully clothed. A small glass of something was lying forgotten next to Arthur, the oil, he supposed; its contents dripping from his dirty clothes. Merlin was sitting in front of the Prince, pale and slightly sweaty with a large, bloody gash on his right hip; a bloodied sword forgotten on the floor next to the boy.

"Merlin!" gasped Lancelot, rushing to the boy's side and kneeling beside him to check on the wound, "Are you alright? What happened?"

Arthur grunted, "Merlin here thought it would be a good idea to run around with my sword like an idiot (_"I was not running around with it you prat! You started to chase me!"_), and tripped over thin air. He stabbed himself with it, quite deep, really, but he was being such a _girl_ and it took me longer to take it out—"

"Hold on," interrupted Gwaine, "so all that fuss was because of a _sword_?"

Arthur and Merlin looked up with equally confused stares to the older male. "Fuss?" asked Merlin. "Yeah, I guess so... Arthur panicked a bit—yes you did you prat, but he managed to take the sword off my leg and... Why are you looking at me like that?"

Before anyone could do anything at all, Gwaine leaped over Merlin and hugged him in an awkward way, ignoring the boy's protests about his leg hurting and how someone should really get him something to stop the bleeding, damn it! "Merlin, I was so worried!" Gwaine started, grabbing the boy's face with both hands, and making him pucker up his lips a bit. "We were hearing all those noises and moans and then the King came by and said you were really vocal, and you told Arthur to go faster, and he lifted your leg and then _he_ screamed your name and—so that means Arthur didn't deflower you, right?"

Gwaine looked far too happy for Merlin's liking, but in the end, it was Arthur who broke the small silence that had started to build in, "I DIDN'T WHAT?"

Arthur's slight blush was nothing compared to Merlin's vibrant, crimson face. Gwaine let go of Merlin and stood up, next to a rather annoyed Lancelot who just soothed the bridge of his nose with the tips of his fingers; a big, wide, stupid smile adorning the older knight's face.

"W-W-Why would Arthur deflow—what is wrong with you!" he really wished he could magic himself out of this situation, but Merlin wasn't really that desperate to expose himself as a warlock, yet. "Stop smiling Gwaine! Lancelot, help me!"

"Well, it really sounded like you two were... you know," said Lancelot, bumping the tips of his index fingers together. Arthur's blush turned a shade darker; Merlin buried his face on his hands. "You do moan a lot, Merlin."

"Wha—it hurt!" he said in indignation.

"Yeah well," said Gwaine, "I'm actually glad it was just a wound."

Gwaine looked down to Merlin's hip and realized that thankfully the blood was starting to clot. A mischievous smile made its way to his lips, and with a slightly malevolent glint in his eyes he started to make his way to Merlin once more; his steps painfully slow in a depredator-like way, "You know, Merlin," he purred, making both Merlin and Arthur look at him with mortification, "we should really clean that wound. Why don't you and I go to my room, and I'll take of your trousers and get you in my bed, to clean you up, of course. Maybe then we could have some fun, if you know what I mean."

Lancelot sighed; this was becoming even more ridiculous if possible. Flailing his hands up in exasperation, he left Arthur's chambers muttering about going to the tavern and hopefully forgetting all about today.

Merlin gaped at Gwaine, his mouth opening and closing soon after, though no words would come out. The blush had spread all over to his ears, and Gwaine had a sudden urge to pinch him on the cheeks and laugh. Arthur, however, reacted sooner than Merlin, and in a swift movement he picked up a surprised Merlin (minding his wounded leg, of course), and got him out of Gwaine's grasp. "I'm not letting you get near him!" Arthur glared at a grinning Gwaine, strengthening his grip on the slimmer boy. "I'm taking him to his room to see if Gaius has some bandages, and don't you dare tell anyone about this, Gwaine!"

Arthur made his way (stomped) out of his room and into the hallways, and maybe it was the small blush on Arthur's cheeks that made him run after them and, standing just outside Arthur's chambers, yell at the top of his lungs to their retreating backs, "We could always make a threesome!"

"SHUT UP!" they both yelled, and not even a month in the stocks would ruin Gwaine's good mood now.

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I originally made Gwaine yell: 'Don't forget to use protection!' but then realized that they didn't have protection back on Camelot's time, right? Soooo I had to settle with that line instead, meh.

Remember to make me a happy author and leave a comment bellow!

MustacheOn


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